


Captivating

by someonehelpme



Series: Timkon Week 2019 [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Robin (Comics), Superboy (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, I don't have the patience, Knight Conner, M/M, TimKon Week, fast burn, no slow burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 17:40:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20029732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someonehelpme/pseuds/someonehelpme
Summary: Timkon Week 2019Day 1 - Fantasy AU - Bed sharing/Only one bedConner Kent, knight of Krypton, was sent by his king to deliver an important package to Gotham. After being attacked and driven off the road, he was saved by a stranger trapped in a tower.





	Captivating

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everybody! This is by far my longest entry for Timkon Week. It also almost got deleted twice by my computer.
> 
> This is also my first time doing something like this, so please tell me if I missed something, tagged incorrectly, or made some other blunder. I just re-read the rules, but I'm very good at misunderstanding rules.
> 
> As always, if you spot a spelling mistake or other typo, feel free to call me out, I want to fix it.

The light broke through the trees, turning the meadow grass green-gold. The birds flitted from tree to tree, singing a piping melody.

Tim’s prison was an exceptionally lovely one.

He wandered through the meadow without fear, knowing that no beasts could break through the barriers that kept him caged. He would occasionally stop to pick herbs and other ingredients, both for his dinner and his potions.

A cluster of wild daffodils by the edge of a river caught his eye and he bent down to gather them in his basket. The bright, cheerful yellow was a welcome sight and he always liked having fresh flowers on the table. However, as his fingers wrapped around the base of a flower, he noticed the normally crystal-clear water was stained with red.

Blood. He could sense it, could feel the power associated with fresh blood coursing through the river. Some poor creature must be wounded upstream.

Tim sighed and scooped up the rest of his flowers before making his way to the source of the blood. The least he could do was put the poor animal out of its misery.

He knew he was getting closer, for the waters grew darker and darker the closer to the source he drew. Tim pushed back his cape to retrieve his knife. If the animal was still conscious, it might lash out at him. He fingered the hilt of the blade, hoping that the creature wasn’t in much pain.

Tim pushed back a low-hanging branch and almost stumbled over the body. Only it wasn’t the body of some animal like Tim had thought.

A young man lay on the bank of the river, his once gleaming armor coated in blood. An arrow was buried in his shoulder, blood flowing from the open wound.

Tim dropped to his knees and pressed a shaking hand to the man’s throat to check for a pulse he feared he wouldn’t find. At his touch, the man let out a quiet groan.

Eyes fluttered open and locked onto Tim’s face. Tim withdrew his hand quickly.

“Who… who are you?” the man mumbled.

"I’m…” Tim hesitated. “Nobody. Don’t worry, you’re going to be fine. Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“Wha.. oh. My ribs… broken.”

“Alright. You’re going to fine. Please, just try and stay awake.”

Tim used his knife to cut the hem of his cloak, cutting bandages and applying pressure to the wound. His patient hissed in pain and Tim murmured an apology before checking to see where the arrow struck him. If it had severed an artery, Tim knew there was nothing he could do. His training was not that good, and without his magic… all he would be able to do was keep the man company until his death, so he wouldn’t die alone in the woods. Not that dying near a stranger was much better. 

Luckily, the arrow seemed to have missed any arteries. The wound, while certainly lethal without treatment, was within Tim’s abilities to heal.

Unfortunately, this led to the problem of transporting the man back to Tim’s tower. Although it wasn’t far away, the man was obviously heavier than Tim. He was at least half a head taller than Tim, it was clear even when he was lying down. His shoulders were broad, and although Tim knew that armor was sometimes used to give the appearance of muscles when there were none, the man’s arms made him doubt that was the case here.

Tim finished bandaging the arrow into place. He knew that removing the arrow would only cause the bleeding to worsen, but he hated leaving it in the man. He glanced up once from his work to check on his patient. The man’s eyes, still bright with pain, hadn’t moved from Tim’s face.

“I’m sorry to have caused you pain. I need you to keep pressure on the wound.” The man gave a faint nod. Tim moved the man’s hands over the wound. “Just… just stay here.”

Tim went deeper into the forest, searching for two branches to form a makeshift stretcher. When he returned to riverbank, the man had slipped back into unconsciousness. It was a bit alarming, how fast he was fading, but Tim was thankful that he would be in little pain as Tim dragged him back to the tower.

Tim tied the remains of his cloak to the two branches, hosted his patient onto the stretcher, and began the journey back to his tower. It least it broke the monotony.

____

Conner awoke to the sounds of cooking. The roar of the fire, the bubbling of of a pot, and the soft humming almost lured him back to sleep, but the growl of his stomach kept him awake.

Forcing his eyes further open, he glanced down to where the bandit had shot him. The arrow had been removed and the wound had been dressed. He could smell healing herbs on the bandage, likely to fight off any infection. The image of a blurry face with stunning blue eyes flitted across his memory and he wondered why.

It was in that moment that he realized the arrow wasn’t the only thing that had been removed. His shirt was missing. His armor, his sword, and his surcoat were all missing. He still had his pants on, and for that he was very grateful.

He was lying on a low bed, covered with a thin blanket. The room he was in looked to be some sort of living quarters, with a comfortable looking chair that was placed next to an open window. On the window sill rested a small jar filled with some sort of flower Conner couldn’t identify. A small bookshelf next to the chair was stuffed to the brim, with books turned sideways and jammed on top of others. The room had no door, which made Conner rather uncomfortable, but instead was open to the next room, which seemed to be a kitchen. From there, he could here movement.

Conner braced his arms on the sides to the bed and tried to rise from his reclined position. His ribs, still healing, screamed in protest and he collapsed back down with a gasp.

The humming in the other room cut off abruptly.

Conner scanned the room for some sort of weapon he could use if the person turned out to be hostile, but nothing was in his range besides the soft pillows on his bed.

“Hello?” A voice called out from the kitchen. A head popped threw the doorway. “Oh, good. You’re awake!”

Conner managed a shaky nod. The angel who saved him was not a figment of his imagination.

There really was no other way to describe him. He was a slender built man, certainly no older than Conner's twenty years. His black hair was tied back, with a few wisps of hair escaping to frame his face. Perfect blue eyes glinted at him and Conner recognized them from his dreams. He now understood why people would write poems about eyes like these.

The man’s face darkened slightly with a blush and Conner tried to close his mouth instead of gaping like a fool. He realized he likely had been staring for a while but couldn’t bring himself to care.

“How are you feeling?” The man came further into the room, carry a tray laden with soup and half a loaf of bread.

“Who are you?” Conner asked, his voice but a whisper.

“Never mind that, are you hungry? You’ve been mostly unconscious for the past couple days.” He walked over to Conner’s bed and knelt beside him. “I imagine you want some water.”

“Please, your name.”

“My name is Tim.”

“Tim…” Conner breathed.

“Yes, you’ve got it.” Conner really hoped he wasn’t imagining the faint blush across Tim’s cheeks. “And who might you be, Sir Knight?”

“I am Conner, Knight of the House of El.” He gratefully took the cup of water that Tim offered.

“The House of El? Why are you so far from home?” Tim questioned.

“Far from home? I wasn’t even two days ride from the palace?”

“Two days ride? But that means…” Tim’s eyes darkened. “Oh, that bastard.”

“Who?” Conner asked, looking around the room for another person.

“Nobody you need to worry about,” Tim said decidedly. His voice softened. “You just need to focus on getting better.”

Tim helped maneuver the pillows so that Conner could sit upright and passed him the tray of food. He rose gracefully from the floor. “I must take my leave of you, but I will return as soon as I am able. Rest.”

And with that, he withdrew from the room, leaving Conner with more questions than ever.

_______

The next time Tim entered the room was to change Conner’s bandages.

“You are healing.” Tim wrapped the bandage tight around Conner’s ribs, causing him to wince. “Too quickly, even with the poultice. Do you have magic blood?”

“A bit, on my father’s side,” admitted Conner. “Why?”

“Some of the runes I use can be potentially harmful to the fey folk and their brethren. Best to be on the safe side. That also explains how you made it through the barrier.”

“What barrier?”

“Surely you noticed. This tower and the surrounding area are all heavily warded.”

Conner hadn’t noticed at all. Unless he had and didn’t even realize. Conner remembered running past trees, smacking branch after branch out of his face. He was blind to where he was running, focused entirely on escaping his pursuer. He remembered a sudden coldness when he passed between two gnarled oak trees, but the pain of the arrow and his ribs distracted him. Looking back, that was the exact moment he lost his pursuer.

“Have you seen anyone else beside me?” Conner asked.

“You are the first stranger I’ve seen in three months. I don’t get a lot of unexpected visitors, if that’s what you’re asking.” Tim rubbed some sweet-smelling poultice around the wound.

Conner glanced down and notice that Tim had a pair of strange bracelets wrapped around his wrists. Upon further inspection he realized they weren’t bracelets at all, but strange tattoos. Layers and layers of unfamiliar runes were etched into Tim’s skin. Although Conner knew less than nothing about magic, he could still recognize a powerful seal. The runes were sharp, with jagged angles and harsh lines. Staring at them, Conner could swear he felt an ominous aura emanating from runes.

Tim noticed his staring and tugged down his sleeves, covering the dark marks. He looked uncomfortable and Conner glanced away, apologetic.

“That’s all for the bandaging. Is there anything you need?” Conner may have only just met Tim, but he could recognize the false cheer in his voice.

“Yes, actually. My armor and other belongings. Where are they?” Conner asked.

“Oh, of course. Your armor is safe and your personal effects are in the other room. Shall I fetch them?”

“No, thank you. But, there is a bag. It was something… of sentimental value.”

“Made of leather with brass clasps?” Upon Conner’s nod, Tim continued. “Yes, I remember it. I’ll be right back.”

Tim left and returned holding Conner’s bag. “I must go if there is to be dinner tonight. Call if you need anything, I cannot go far.”

Conner waited until Tim was safely out of the room before opening the clasp. To his relief, it didn’t appear that Tim had disturbed the contents at all.

He pushed aside the contents and lifted out the false bottom.

The Crystal of Seeing was exactly where he left it, glowing with a faint inner light.

Despite almost being killed over it, Conner still knew it was a great honor to be allowed to carry the stone. The Crystal of Seeing had not left the Castle of El for well over a thousand years. Conner was the first person to be allowed to take it from the castle in living memory and he knew the honor and the burden that accompanied the stone.

He had to get back on the road if he was to escort the Crystal to its destination.

The broken ribs were a setback, admittedly, but Tim did say that he was healing quickly. No matter his injuries, he knew he had to be on the road in less than two weeks to deliver the Crystal in time.

Conner returned the Crystal to its hiding spot and re-secured the fastenings of the false bottom. He lifted a corner of the mattress he rested on and slid the bag underneath. Tim had been nothing but kind to him, but Conner knew a façade of kindness could be shed as easily as a coat.

________

Conner saw Tim very rarely over the next two days. He would come in to drop off a meal or change Conner’s bandages. In truth, Tim seemed just as wary of Conner as Conner was of Tim.

It was only when Conner’s injuries healed enough for him to get up in explore that it forced them into greater contact.

“You are still healing; will you please lie back down!” Tim exclaimed the forth time Conner tried to walk around the back garden.

“I’ve been lying in bed for days! If I laze about any longer, I’ll turn into mush,” Conner argued from the ground. He had lay down on the ground to rest but had fallen asleep. Tim had returned from a trip to the forest to find him in between his carrots and lavender.

Tim sighed in exasperation and held out his hand to help him up. Conner gratefully took it. Tim shoved a basket full of wild berries into Conner’s chest.

“If you want to be on your feet, you’ll have to work. Take those into the kitchen and put them in the cellar.”

“Is it too late to change my mind?”

Tim snorted and gathered a handful of firewood from the side of the house. Conner followed Tim into the kitchen.

Conner had never spent much time in any kitchen, but he liked Tim’s.

It was small, borderline cramped, with drying herbs hanging from the ceiling. Jars filled with jams and other, less identifiable, foodstuffs were arranged haphazardly to shelves. A giant iron pot hung over the fireplace and Tim placed his load of firewood in the rack set next to it. The cellar where Conner placed the berries was packed to the brim with food. Conner had to wonder at Tim’s organization skills.

Conner eased himself onto a stool, realizing that Tim was right, it was too soon to expect to be back on his feet. Tim washed his hands in the sink and started pulling out flour and other ingredients.

“What are you making?” Conner asked. Tim was pouring seemingly random ingredients into a bowl.

Tim looked up. “Bread.”

Conner waited for him to continue but Tim turned back to his task, stirring the ingredients into a thick dough.

An awkward silence fell over the two of them. Tim ignored him, focusing on his recipe and Conner sat quietly fidgeting until he could no longer stand it.

“Have I done something to offend you?”

Tim started. It seemed that he had almost forgotten Conner in the five minutes he had not looked at him. “No?”

“You said that like a question.”

“No, I didn’t and no, you’ve done nothing to offend me.” When Conner simply raised an eyebrow, Tim huffed, blowing a strand of hair out of his face. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had… pleasant company.”

“You think I’m pleasant?”

“I think you’re company that hasn’t yet tried to hurt me, that makes you pleasant.”

“How rude. I’ll have you that there are plenty of other qualities I possess that are flattering, besides not injuring people who save my life.” Conner was a bit concerned about Tim’s answer. He didn’t know him that well, but unless he was keeping Conner to eat him, he seemed like a kind person. Certainly not someone who deserved to be hurt. “People love to spend time with me.”

“Hmm.” The amount of disbelief in Tim’s hum was incredible. “Either way, you’ll soon be back with those “people” and I will be without your pleasant company.”

“So eager to be rid of me?”

Tim didn’t answer and Conner felt a sting of disappointment.

Tim sprinkled flour on his workstation and dumped his dough out. He kneaded the dough like it had personally offended him, pummeling it into submission. Conner didn't know much about baking, but he thought you weren't supposed to beat the dough like it owed you money.

Tim sighed, brushing a strand of hair away from his face with a flour covered hand, leaving a streak across his forehead. "Not so eager to see you leave, as to see you safely on your way. I am not eager to lose the only semi-intelligent company I've had in a long time."

Conner remembered Tim mentioning that he was the first person Tim had seen in months.

“Why do you have so few guests?” Conner asked.

Tim leveled him with a deadpan stare. “Because after I ate the hearts of the first few people, the survivors warned everyone else off.”

“Ha ha, very funny.” Conner snarked. When Tim’s face didn’t change, Conner felt a jolt of unease. “That was a joke, right?”

Breaking from his poker face, Tim rolled his eyes. “Yes, that was a joke. I’ve never eaten anybody. Remember the barrier I mentioned earlier?” Conner nodded. “It was created to keep people out.”

“Why do you want to keep people out?” Conner asked. 

“Full of questions, aren’t you? The barrier wasn’t created by me.” Tim let loose a bitter laugh. “I have no choice in the matter.”

“If you weren’t the one who created it, then how did you and I get inside?”

“I got inside because the sorcerer who made the barrier locked me in here. You, on the other hand, I don’t know. It is strange…” Tim mumbled, lost in thought.

Conner nearly slipped off the stool. “What do you mean _locked you in here_?”

Tim started. It was clear that he hadn’t meant to let that piece of information slip. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Kind of hard not to.” Conner said.

“Worry about yourself and your wounds.”

“I can worry about both, I am very good at multi-tasking,” Conner argued.

Tim made a face at him. “Who shot you and why were they so desperate to kill you?”

Conner winced.

“You have your secrets, I have mine.” Tim placed the dough onto a paddle shaped board and used it to maneuver the bread dough into his over. He dusted the leftover flour from his hands. “Make sure you get some rest. You’ll need it for your journey.”

______

After that, they crept around each other. They spoke at mealtimes and said _good mornings _and _good nights_ and never mentioned Tim's captivity or why someone tried to kill Conner. Conner was afraid of causing Tim offense, for it was obvious he was unhappy with his prison. Tim tried to avoid speaking to Conner because he didn’t want to become anymore attached to Conner than he already was.

For he was becoming attached. It was hard not to. Even without talking Conner proved himself to be a caring and sweet person. For the first time since he arrived at the Tower, Tim had a constant supply of firewood. Conner had not allowed the pile by the fireplace to be less than halfway full and was beginning to create a store that would last the winter. Conner would always thank Tim after he changed his bandages or made dinner. He would always offer to clean up after dinner, a task Tim detested.

Tim had become accustomed to having him around. He cursed himself for his weakness, knowing that the idea of watching Conner leave hurt more every day. So he tried to ignore him and carry on as he had before Conner's arrival. This meant avoiding him, but Tim preferred to safeguard himself against avoidable heartbreak. 

_______

It wasn’t until the end of the first week that things began to change between them.

Conner was a talkative person by nature and the mutual silence began to grate on him. He decided to try to break the silence.

“Can we talk?” As awkwardly as possible it seemed.

“About what, Sir Knight?” Tim replied, not looking up from the potion he was brewing. He uncorked a bottle that contained gray dust, sniffed it, and dumped half into his cauldron.

“You know that’s not my name,” sighed Conner. “And I just want to talk about anything, the weather, your potion, what’s for dinner, anything!”

“Very well. The weather is crisp and clear, as you very well know, I saw you taking a walk earlier. This potion is supposed to sap a person’s magic and we’re having soup for dinner.”

“Tim…” Conner tried not to whine.

“Very well. It’s been a while since I’ve had the latest news. What is going on outside my Tower?”

Conner perked up immediately. “Let’s see… In the past three months King Barry Allen has announced his official engagement to Lady Iris West and they are to be married in six months time. The Amazon kingdom welcomed Princess Donna home as of two weeks ago. She was ambassador to Tamaran, you know. Apparently, she and Princess Koriander are good friends.”

Tim listened with a small smile on his face, content to listen to Conner ramble about royal gossip.

“King Queen, man that’s weird to say, King Oliver Queen is hosting another shooting tournament, show-off that he is. And then there’s Gotham, which is being weird, well, weirder than usual.”

Tim paused in his stirrings to side-eye Conner. “Weird how?”

“They’ve sent envoys to every kingdom they’ve allied with requesting add. King Clark says that he’s knew seen such a thing. King Bruce is supposed to be notorious for not wanting strangers in his kingdom, so for him to request aid is troubling.”

“What do you mean?” Conner looked up at Tim. He had set his ladle down and was staring at him, wide-eyed. “You must forgive me my curiosity, I lived in Gotham for many years.”

Conner hesitated. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to speak of it, but really, who was Tim going to tell?

“King Clark believes they plan to go to war.”

“War? With who?”

“You’ve heard of the League of Assassins?” A dark shadow passed over Tim’s face at the name and he gave a sharp nod. “We believe that something happened between Gotham and the League. King Bruce has sent troops to guard the edge of the kingdom closest to the League and reportedly has refused to allow Talia al Ghul entrance to the kingdom, even to see her son, Prince Damian.”

Tim bit his lip. “How do you know all this?”

“I was supposed to carry the message of aid to Gotham. Now I’ll be lucky if I arrive the same time as the rest of the troops.”

“This lends new urgency to your recovery.” Tim pushed his cauldron off the fire and rose, then hesitated. “You still plan to travel to Gotham?”

“Straight to the King himself,” confirmed Conner.

Tim poured the potion into small glass bottles, corking them quickly. The potion changed from a gray syrup to a brilliant blue as it cooled. Conner placed the bottles in the shelf labeled POTIONS- DO NOT CONSUME. The sign wasn't there before Conner arrived, and he would be insulted if he hadn't tried to drink a bottle of what Tim later informed him was a potion of baldness. The shelf was filled with bottles of all shapes and sizes and Conner wondered what half of them did.

As soon as the last bottle was corked and put away safely, Tim opened his mouth to say something and then hesitated. Conner waited. Tim fiddled with one of the empty bottles before speaking.

“If I could trouble you, I have family in Gotham. If you… Could you carry a message to them for me?” Tim asked in a halting voice.

“Anything for you. You saved my life.”

Tim smiled gratefully. “I will go then. I have so much to tell them and I want my letter ready when you must leave.”

Conner nodded, and Tim seemed to take that as a dismissal, darting up the stairs that disappeared into the top of tower where Tim slept.

After that, something had eased between them. The idea of contacting his family made Tim considerable brighter. He applied Conner’s bandages with more poultices in order to speed his recovery and Conner would almost be offended at Tim rushing him out the door if Tim hadn’t obviously excited to speak to his family for the first time in months.

Tim was also more talkative. He spoke more in one day than he had in the whole week previous. It turned out that Tim was as snarky as they come and twice as sharp. Conner loved the look in his bright eyes when he came up with a particularly cutting remark, even if it was directed at him.

Perhaps love was too strong a word. He admired Tim and there was no denying that Tim was incredibly attractive, not with his long-legged grace and frankly stunning face. But it was impossible for someone to fall in love in under a week.

Or so Conner thought until one night in front of the fireplace, when he made Tim laugh so hard he snorted. It wasn’t a particularly clever or memorable joke, but the image of Tim, red faced with laughter, lying on a blanket in front of the fire was permanently seared into his mind.

_Oh, _thought Conner. _Oh, shit. _

It didn’t get any better from there. He was constantly aware of Tim. Everything he did made Conner fall deeper. His laugh, the way he sort of danced when he walked, the times he would tinker with a potion and inevitably cause it to explode in his face. All those moments made Conner’s heart sing.

Sitting shirtless in front of him while he tended to Conner's ribs became a new sort of torture. Every time Tim’s fingers would graze his bare skin it burned. Tim was so absorbed in his work that Conner could openly stare without him noticing. He would be so close that Conner could see a small scar on his cheek. There was a tiny tattoo behind his ear. He was always so close and yet so far.

It became a tradition for them to sit next to the fire before Tim retired to his rooms. They told each other stories about their kingdoms and occasionally Tim would fall asleep and Conner would have to wake him. 

It was a crime to wake him, Conner was sure. Tim asleep was one of his favorite Tims, if only because he could watch him dream. His nose would wrinkle up and he would kick out. Once in a while, he’d mutter under his breath, fragments of sentences Conner couldn’t quite string together.

___________

As all good things, it had to come to an end.

Once Conner was healed enough for Tim to declare him safe for travel, Tim began to pack him a bag. He also retrieved Conner’s armor and sword from storage and Conner spent the better part of a day sharping his sword and cleaning his supplies.

Tim packed extra blankets and made muffins for the road and all at once it was the night before Conner planned to leave.

They cooked a feast and Conner made apple pie like Ma Kent taught him and they ate until they were stuffed before collapsing in front of the fireplace one last time.

Conner could hear the wind roaring outside, but inside the fire roared and Tim was splayed on the floor, resting a hand on his stomach.

“I shouldn’t have eaten so much.”

“At least you don’t have to travel tomorrow. You can just lay in bed all day, I have to walk to Gotham!”

“I cannot help you, let me whine.” Tim closed his eyes, warm and drowsy by the fire.

“You whine too much. Do you have the letter you wanted me to send?”

Tim bolted for his room, taking them two at a time. Conner blinked. For someone complaining that he was about to explode a minute ago, Tim sure could move fast.

Tim returned carrying a thick letter tied with a purple ribbon made of crushed velvet.

“Please keep it safe.” He passed the letter to Conner. Conner tucked the letter into his pack and placed a blanket on top to ensure its safety.

“I’ll guard it with my life,” said Conner solemnly.

Tim rolled his eyes and flopped back onto the floor. “Just don’t get shot again.”

“Trust me, I have no plans to go through that again. I doubt I’ll be as lucky to be saved by an angel twice.”

“An angel didn’t save you, dumbass. I did.”

Conner lay next to Tim and faced him. “I know. My sweet guardian angel with the foulest mouth I’ve ever heard.”

Tim laughed at that. Tim’s whole face crinkled when he laughed and his eyes were impossible soft when they stared into Conner’s. They fell into a silence, as if they were both waiting for the other to say something but didn’t know what.

Conner decided to take the plunge and ask a question that had been on his mind since he arrived.

“What do your marks mean?”

Tim paused, considering his answer before he spoke. “This one-” he said, tracing an elaborate rune on his upper arm. “It means _Protect My Son_. The one on the back of my neck means _Safe Travels_. I have one behind my left ear that my sister marked. It’s supposed to bring good luck.”

Conner’s breath caught. Since he had arrived at the Tower, Tim had never once mentioned having a sister. He mentioned a family, but it clearly hurt him to speak of them, so Conner had never asked specifics. He had wondered again where Tim had come from before being trapped in his tower.

Tim pushed himself into a sitting position and Conner joined him. Tim’s face was sad and soft all at once.

Tim unfurled his hand to reveal a design similar to a compass. “The one on my palm was drawn by my eldest brother. It’s supposed to always point me home, so no matter how far I travel, I can always return.” Tim swiped at his face. “It hasn’t moved since I was banished here.”

Conner caught Tim’s hand. As Tim said, the rune was unmoving. It looked like it was painted on, the point of the compass fixed slightly off center. Tim eyes moved from the broken compass to Conner’s face. The warmth on his face was almost too much for Conner.

He glanced down at Tim’s delicate wrists, completely covered by bands of runes, so many, one layered of the other until it almost looked solid black manacles. He ran his thumb over a particularly spikey symbol, causing Tim to shiver. Conner glanced up.

“What do these mean?”

Tim didn’t break eye contact with Conner. “They mean _Slave_.”

Conner shook his head, certain that he had misheard. “I’m sorry, what?”

“_Slave_. The sorcerer who trapped me here, he first tried to enslave me through these runes. They didn’t work, not entirely. They cut off all my magic but left me with my free will. He was upset that I wouldn’t obey him. He locked me in this land to hold me until he can figure a better way to control me. He left these marks to prevent me from either escaping or fighting back.”

Despite Tim’s detached tone, Conner could hear the tremble in his voice and his vision went red.

“Who? Who did this, Tim?”

“It doesn’t matter. I will find a way to escape and I find my way home,” Tim said, eyes determined.

“Tim… I can’t leave you here.” Conner tighten his grip on Tim’s hands, wishing he could burn the marks off Tim’s wrists. “Not knowing some monster has you trapped here.”

“You must. My family must know what happened to me and he must not find you here.” Tim leaned forward, and Conner could no longer tell if the warmth he felt was from the fire or from Tim. Tim eyes slid from his. “And besides, I couldn’t stand it if my curse trapped you here as well.”

A silence fell between them, thick with unspoken words. The crackle of the fire filled the room in the absence of sound.

Conner broke the quiet. “I will leave. If that is what you wish, I will go. But I swear to you, I will return for you. No matter what.”

“Don’t make a promise you can’t keep.” Tim whispered.

“I swear by my sword, by my family line, and by my heart that I will return for you, Tim. I swear to do everything in my power to free you from your imprisonment and I _will _bring you home.” Conner raised Tim’s hands to his lips and pressed a soft kiss against his knuckles. “You have my word.”

“Conner…” Tim leaned forward, so close that their foreheads brushed against each other.

“Just promise me, you will be safe upon my return. I can leave only knowing that you will be safe.”

“I will be. I have survived the first three months here by myself. I will survive until you return.” Tim reached out a tentative hand and cupped Conner’s face. Conner leaned his head into his touch, reveling in the feel of Tim’s skin against his. “I…”

Tim withdrew his hand and Conner mourned the missing warmth immediately.

“It is late. If you are to leave early, you should be well rested. I will leave you to sleep.” Tim rose quickly and made to walk away, but Conner caught his hand, preventing him from making a speedy escape.

“Wait! Please. Don’t go.”

“You must rest.” Tim’s reply came quickly, almost desperately.

“Will you sleep with me?”

Tim’s entire face bloomed red and Conner hastily backtracked. “Not like that! I mean, will you spend the night with me? Just sleeping, I promise. I feel like I already miss you.”

Tim studied his face and for a moment, Conner was afraid he had broken their friendship and whatever might have existed between them permanently.

Then Tim gave a quick nod.

“But I refuse to sleep with you on that dreaded cot. Come.” Tim pulled Conner to his feet and guided him up the flight of stairs Conner had seen Tim disappear up every night.

Tim’s room was everything and nothing like Conner expected. It was simple and slightly messy. His four-poster bed stood in the center of the room. The thick curtains were drawn back, revealing a bed with blankets that spilled over onto the floor and at least ten pillows. The moon shone through the circular window high above their heads, drenching the room with soft moonshine. The smell of lavender came wafting through one of the many open windows, making Conner drowsy.

Tim headed directly toward to mound of pillows that made up his bed, slipping between soft sheets. Tim tugged Conner by the wrist, beckoning him into bed.

“Wake me tomorrow morning,” Tim said, eyelids already heavy with sleep. “I don’t want you to leave without saying goodbye.”

“It won’t be goodbye, I will see you again soon.”

“Still.” Tim yawned, blinking heavily.

“Rest,” Conner said. “I also don’t wish to leave without a proper farewell.”

Tim hummed, eyes closed and completely relaxed. Conner allowed himself to melt into the bed, allowing himself to imagine a future where he fell asleep next to Tim every night.

______________

The next morning dawned grim and gray. It had rained in the night, and one could taste it in the air. Fog surrounded the Tower and seeped off into the forest.

Tim walked him to the edge of barrier. The only thing that marked the edge of the prison was a thin line burned into the ground and the smell of sulfur in the air.

“I guess this is goodbye,” Tim said, wrapping his cloak a little tighter to protect him against the damp of the morning.

“I told you I don’t like that word,” Conner said as he shouldered his pack. 

“And I don’t like having regrets. There are many people I wish I could say goodbyes too, yet never will. Allow me this peace of mind.”

Conner nodded. “Wish me safe travels?”

“May you encounter no danger and may the stars guide you true.” Tim whispered into the early morning air.

Conner nodded. “Be safe until I can return.”

“I will.” Tim bit his lip, holding back tears through sheer force of will. “Go then, so you can return all the sooner.”

Conner managed a shaky laugh and took a tentative step across the boundary. It allowed him to pass, but he could feel a slight resistance.

Tim pressed his hand up against the barrier. Although Conner allowed himself to hope, the barrier stood true and Tim could not cross it.

Conner didn’t want to turn his back on Tim. Every part of him screamed to stay here with Tim, where he could protect him should his captor return, but he knew he must leave.

Tim seemed to sense his reluctance, because he twirled on his heel and started to march back to the Tower.

Conner readjusted his backpack and started his walk towards Gotham.

Neither of them looked back.

________

When Conner arrived at Gotham Castle, he was ushered directly into the throne room. King Bruce was waiting alongside his oldest son, Prince Dick.

“Prince Kon-El. Welcome to Gotham. I hope your travels were safe.” King Bruce’s deep voice reverberated in the empty hall. He stepped down from his throne to stand at eye-level with Conner.

The king had always been an imposing figure to Conner. Kon was by no means short, but the king towered over everyone. Yet it wasn’t just his height that made him a commanding presence. Everything about him demanded respect. Kon had heard from Clark how his reputation for being a kind and just king was well founded. The people of Gotham adored him and his many enemies feared him. Every time Conner say him, he felt himself straightening up and pushing back his shoulders. The king made everyone next to him want to stand tall.

However, the bags under his eyes spoke of many sleepless nights. There was a dark look in his eyes that hadn’t been there previously.

So, King Clark was right, there was something amiss in Gotham.

“There were some… setbacks. I apologize for the delay.” Conner bowed.

“You are safe, that is what matter. Have you brought the stone?”

Conner nodded and withdrew the Crystal of Seeing. Prince Dick surged forward and carefully took the stone from Conner.

“Gotham thank you. Our Seer, Lady Barbara, will be thrilled,” said King Bruce.

“I will bring it to her immediately. The sooner she has it, the sooner the search can begin.” Prince Dick sped away, cradling the stone like a life line.

“You must forgive his impatience, we’ve all been very worried about the Crystal’s safe arrival.”

“It is fine. King Clark sends his hopes that you are all well. The reinforcements you requested should arrive any day now. They were set to depart shortly after I did.”

“They will be received with great relief.” King Bruce glanced at Kon, realizing he was still dusty from the road. “My apologizes for forcing you to stand any longer. I’m sure you are tired from your travels. Shall I have someone show you to your room?”

“No, thank you.” Conner had felt the weight of the letter the entire trip. “I have errand I must run.”

He said his farewells to the king. It was clear that he was as anxious as his son to join the Seer.

Conner left the Castle and traveled deeper into Gotham City. The buildings of the city seemed dark and grim to him, but there was majesty to them. Gotham had a long and dark history and it was obvious in the architecture. The gargoyles standing guard on the rooftops would occasionally shift in place, sending the water dripping from their wings to the streets below. Gotham was almost a living city, so imbued with magic that Conner could taste it in the air.

Robinson Park stood in the center of Gotham City. It was older than all of the buildings that surrounded it and would probably outlive them all. It had a wild, overgrown feel to it. Tim had told him that a woman named Pamela Isley lived at the center of the wood. She was the official protector of the park and insured that the plants inside were well cared for, if a little wild.

He entered the park, looking for the willow tree Tim had described. He spotted it, standing right by the lake, its leaves swaying gently and just barely grazing the top of the water, sending ripples spiraling into the lake.

If Conner didn’t know to look for the box, he never would have spotted it. It was tucked high among the boughs of the tree, painted the same color of the wood. _A mailbox of sorts,_ Tim had said, _my sibling know of it, but don't let anyone see you place the letter._

He withdrew the letter Tim had carefully sealed with the purple ribbon. He had been very careful through his journey to make sure that the letter never got crinkled or wet. Tim had trusted him to deliver it and he refused to let him down.

He stepped up on the roots of the tree in order to reach the box and opened the lid, surprised to find that its hinges were well-oiled and didn’t make a sound. 

“Excuse me. Are you lost?”

The voice made him jump. Conner glanced over his shoulder to find a young man a few years older than himself, glaring at him. The way he asked implied that the answer better be _yes, but I’m leaving immediately, goodbye, please don’t kill me_.

He was slightly taller than Kon, with an odd streak of white cutting though his otherwise pitch-black hair. He carried a sword at his waist and Conner could tell from the easy confidence he displayed that the stranger was very, very good with it.

“Why, do you need directions?” Conner turned to face him, careful to keep the letter out of sight. “As far as I am aware this is a public park.”

“It is,” the man admitted. “But it’s not safe to walk these trails alone. Everyone in Gotham knows that.”

“You’re alone,” Conner pointed out.

“I’m the exception to the rule.”

“What’s the point of having such a rule if everyone and their grandmother breaks it?”

The man’s face darkened slightly. He clearly didn’t appreciate Kon’s stellar wit.

“Tell you what. You leave me alone and I promise that I will leave in a few minutes,” Kon offered. “I just want to enjoy the scenery in peace.”

The stranger advanced closer and Conner itched to draw his own sword. “A likely story. How do I know that you aren’t-”

“Tim.”

A voice from above Conner sounded, causing him to startle again. He was getting very tired of people sneaking up behind him.

When he glanced up, he found a young woman standing above him on one of the thick willow branches. She wasn’t even looking at him, her eyes affixed to the letter he held behind his back. Then her eyes snapped to his face and he wished she was still staring at the letter.

“Cass?” Luckily, the man in front of him sounded more confused than hostile, at least for the moment. “I thought you were staying with Barbara.”

“Where did you get that letter?” Cass demanded, jumping down from the tree to land in front of Conner.

“How do you know Tim?” he countered.

“My brother.” She pulled down her shirt collar slightly to revel a rune on her collarbones. It matched the one behind Tim’s ear perfectly and Kon sighed in relief. “Letter?”

Conner passed the letter over to her. She traced the velvet ribbon with her finger before tugging it lose. The man crowded behind her to read over her shoulder. Her brows furrowed as she read the letter.

“Where did you get this?” Her face was emotionless, but her voice was thick with tears.

“Tim gave it to me.”

“You’ve seen him?” The man stepped forward.

“It’s been four days since I last saw him, but he was safe when I left. I plan to return to him as soon as possible.”

“Jason, we must tell Father.” Cass grabbed Conner’s hand and tugged him along behind her, clutching Tim’s letter in her other hand. Jason followed behind them. They led him through twisting side streets and one underground tunnel that deposited them at the castle gates. The guards bowed to the trio, allowing them to pass with no questions and Conner decided his day was probably going to get a lot more complicated. 

_________

Dick left the throne room, dashing up the stairs two at a time. The stone in his hand pulsed. Barbara’s workroom was in the tallest tower in the castle. She said it helped her magic, making the signals clearer, but Dick was certain that she liked it because it kept away unwanted visitors. Climbing the stairs was enough of a deterrent, even for Dick.

“Barbara! Krypton has brought the Crystal!” Dick wheezed.

Barbara head whipped around from where she sat at her scrying table.

“Give it here!” She yanked the Crystal of Seeing from his hands. She swiped the other focus crystals from the table to make way for the Crystal. The many mirrors she used for scrying reflected the image of the Crystal, repeating the image over and over.

The Crystal of Seeing had a long and eventful past, or so Barbara had told him. It was famed across the planet for its ability to boost a magic user’s ability, especially for scrying, earning it its title. It was so famous that it attracted thieves and collectors’ interest alongside the magical communities. According to Barbara, it had been gifted to the El line from Krypton over thousand years ago and had not left the Castle since.

When Tim had first disappeared, Barbara had used all the most powerful stones in the kingdom to search for him, only to be met with a thick mist over her mirrors. They knew then that someone had taken him and was purposely hiding him from them.

Bruce had asked, begged, his best friend Clark to lend them the Crystal. And Clark had agreed, but only if someone of the El line was the one to transport it to Gotham, citing that the Els had always been the Crystal’s keepers.

When Prince Kon-El had not arrived at the arranged date, the Wayne family had feared that both he and the stone had been lost.

Now they were one step closer to bringing Tim home.

The door opened again, and Bruce entered. “Any luck?”

Barbara’s hair floated gently around her face and her eyes glowed like the Crystal of Seeing.

“None yet,” Dick answered. “How did you get up here so fast?”

“It’s just stairs, Dick.”

“_It’s just stairs, Dick_,” mocked Dick, mimicking Bruce’s voice.

Barbara swatted at them, urging them to be quiet.

“Where’s Cass? Isn’t this her day with Barbara?” Bruce whispered to Dick.

“She and Jason took a walk. You know how they get.” Dick shrugged his shoulders. Jason and Cass had grown closer since Tim had disappeared. Both had bonded over their fear for Tim and desire to bring him home, using any means necessary.

Bruce nodded, eyes straight ahead.

“I’m getting something,” Barbara said, drawing their attention back to her.

An image started to form in the largest mirror.

A tower in the middle of a meadow, growing clearer and clearer every moment. Dick could see a river in the background. It was a surprisingly peaceful place. Dick let out a quiet sigh. Even if Tim was being held hostage somewhere, at least he wasn’t trapped in a filthy dungeon.

Barbara flicked her hand and the image zoomed in through a window. It found Tim.

His hair was a little longer than Dick remembered, his eyes a lot sadder. But he was Tim, and he was in one piece. Dick could see no visible wounds, and although he knew that not all injuries were visible, the sight of Tim unharmed brought him great relief.

Mirror Tim was in a kitchen, stirring a cauldron of bubbling liquid. A bit of the liquid splashed onto his hands and he hissed, shaking his hand in pain. Dick openly laughed at that. The number of times Dick had seen Tim injuring himself while practicing magic was countless and the sight of it was comforting.

Tim paused in his stirring and sighed, looking up at the ceiling.

That was when his face began to crumple. Tim swiped at his face with his hands, and Dick could see tears streaming down his face. Tim pushed the cauldron aside and slumped against a wall, pressing the palms of his hands over his eyes. He angrily wiped at his eyes, trying to stop the tears. 

Dick’s heart ached. He wanted to reach through the mirror, grab his little brother, and never let him go. From the looks on Bruce’s and Barbara’s faces, they obviously shared his feelings. He hated feeling useless, when his baby brother was out there hurting. And Tim would always be his baby brother, no matter how old he got.

“Are you able to get a lock on his location?” Bruce asked, his voice low.

Barbara grimaced. “Unfortunately, no. I can sense the general location, but that’s the best I can do right now.”

“That’s enough to get us started.”

The door opened.

“Father.” Damian entered, trying to disguise the fact he was out of breath.

“Are the stairs really that difficult?” Bruce asked. Damian leveled a glare at him, while Barbara giggled. Her floating wheelchair made easy work of the steps that winded everyone but Bruce.

“Father. Cain and Todd both wish to speak to you.” Damian rolled his eyes. “They say it’s urgent.”

“Very well. I wanted to give them the good news anyway,” said Bruce.

“I’ll stay here. I want to see if I can narrow his location down,” Barbara said, pressing a hand back over the stone.

“Have you found Drake?” Damian asked, voice hopeful. Even though he and Tim had bickered constantly, as the days turned into weeks and there was still no sign of Tim, even Damian had shed his superior act to show his concern for his missing brother.

“Maybe. I’ll explain more downstairs.” Bruce strode from the room, Damian close on his heels. Dick paused just long enough to press a kiss to Barbara’s cheek before following them.

_________

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose.

“So, you’re telling me. That you stumbled upon Timothy, purely by accident, when all of my soldiers have been searching for months, to no avail, and then you left him alone?”

Jason and Cass snickered, amused at his annoyance, like the terrible children they were. Prince Kon cocked his head to the side, confused.

“Yes?” Prince Kon-El. “Wait, no. I didn’t leave Tim, he told me to get in contact with his family. Which if I knew was you, it would have saved me a lot of time.”

Bruce let out a sigh. He knew the prince wasn’t trying to annoy him, but the idea of **him** finding Tim, was giving Bruce a headache. Jason was not so subtlety laughing at his pain. Dick, his sweet, sweet son, stepped up.

“Was he alright when you left?” Dick asked.

“Yes.” Kon bit his lip, looking uncertain for a moment. Cass followed the movement, eyes narrowed. She glanced at Bruce. She mouthed a single word. _Liar_.

“Are you sure?” Bruce asked.

The prince inhaled slightly. “I mean, physically? Fine, he’s uninjured. But, I mean, he’s currently trapped by some monster in a tower that he cannot leave, so it’s kind of hard to say.”

“Monster? What kind?” Bruce demanded.

“Not a literal monster. He never named his captor, but he did refer to him as a sorcerer.”

“Grandfather.” Damian spoke. “It must be.”

“Very likely,” Bruce agreed.

“Wait, you’re telling me that Tim’s grandfather is the one keeping him hostage?” Kon asked, confused.

“Not his grandfather, mine.” _Idiot_ went unsaid but was heard by all.

Cass waved her hand. “It is complicated.”

Kon shook his head, dismissing the confusing Wayne family drama. “Anyway, I plan to leave in the morning to return to him.”

“I’m going with you.” Both Dick and Jason spoke at the same time, their voice’s overlapping.

Cass nodded. “I am going as well.”

Bruce nodded. “Ready by morning. Keep it quiet, we don’t want to find ourselves in an ambush because Ra’s has a spy we don’t know about.”

“Are we taking any guards?” Dick asked.

“Stealth is key. A large force is more noticeable. Our goal should be to extract Tim, then we can worry about Ra’s.”

His children nodded before dispersing.

When the room was empty, but for him and the prince.

The prince shifted his weight. Bruce recognized the look of someone trying to ask a question without actually asking it. He waited. As much as he wanted to go begin packing for their journey, he owed the prince some answers for finding his son.

He waited for the prince had gathered his courage. After what felt like a great while, he did.

“Why did Ra’s kidnap Tim?” Kon asked.

Bruce considered his answer. He wasn't surprised that Kon wanted to know why. He wanted to know himself. “To be perfectly honest, I’m not entirely sure. It’s bothered me since I first suspected Ra’s.”

Bruce had his suspicions, but never any hard proof. Ra’s had expressed his admiration on multiple occasion for Tim’s keen intellect. Bruce knew that Ra’s had urged Tim to join the League of Assassins, that both his magic and his cleverness could be of significant use to Ra’s. Tim had always firmly rejected all of Ra’s offers and Bruce had hoped that would be the end of it. He thought that Ra’s would recognize Tim’s loyalty would never lie with him and to try and force him would only result in Tim burning the League to the ground.

“Tim went for a walk and never came home. We assumed he ran off for a bit. It wasn’t unusual for Tim to disappear for a few days, but he always tells someone. When we could find no trace of him, we concluded that he had been taken against his will. We started searching, but by then the kidnappers had a three days head start and had disappeared completely.” Bruce sighed, remembering those awful days following the realization that his son wasn’t only gone, but possibly in danger as well.

“Our only clue was a piece of cloth torn from one of the assailants. It was League made, but I couldn’t justifiably go to war when we weren’t certain that they were the ones who took Tim. We couldn’t even prove that he had been taken against his will.”

“But now you have proof.”

“Yes.” Bruce’s hands tightened into fists. “And I intend to destroy Ra’s and everything he holds dear. He will face justice for this.”

“Krypton will stand by your side, you have my word. Tim is my friend, I promised him I would return and free him. I swore he would be safe. That promise includes eliminating those who would do him harm was he is free.”

Bruce rested a hand on Kon’s shoulder. “I’m glad you found him.”

“So am I,” confessed Kon. His face went soft, and a faint blush covered his cheeks. “I care about Tim a lot.”

_Ah_. Bruce thought. _Fuck_. The prince was in love with his Tim. _Fucker_. He could deal with that after Tim was safe at home.

__________

The days passed by similar to how they passed by before Conner lived with him. He had grown accustomed to Conner’s near constant presence and to suddenly lose it was like walking from a warm house into the bitter cold.

He went through the motions, plotting his escape while planning for the winter. But the whole Tower felt empty. For heavens sake, he’d had Conner in his bed for one night and now it seemed permanently lacking without him.

About a week after Conner left and Tim was sick of his own moping. He grabbed a basket and practically ran from the Tower, going as deep into the forest as he could.

He found a patch of wild strawberries and picked as much as he could. Admittedly, he ate almost as much as he put in his basket, but there was still enough to make something out of.

The sky began to turn orange as the sun set and he headed home, stomach full. On the way back, he had a silent debate with himself about whether he wanted to make jam to last him the winter or treat himself and make strawberry shortcake.

He had decided to treat himself, because he was worth it, and make the cake by the time he got to the front door. If he had been feeling less sorry for himself, he may have noticed the way the carpet had been skewed.

Nothing, however, could prepare him for Ra’s al Ghul standing in his kitchen.

The basket of strawberries slipped from his hand, spilling all over floor.

“Ra’s.”

“My dearest Timothy.” Ra’s voice reminded Tim of a river, calm and surprisingly deep.

Tim took a step back. “I’m not _your_ anything. What do you want?”

Ra’s had vowed not to return to Tim until he had found a way to permanently bend Tim to his will. If he had finally found something, Tim feared that there would be nothing left of him by the time Conner returned.

Ra’s approached him without fear and Tim refused to budge another inch. He hated the way his hands trembled slightly and hid them behind his back.

“Someone has passed through my wards.” It wasn’t a question.

“And?” Tim asked, faking calm. If Ra’s knew about Conner, he would certainly track and kill him quickly. Or worse, drag him back and force Tim to watch as he tortured Conner to death. Tim could only hope he had gotten far enough away that he was safe.r

“Quite certain. Someone passed through my wards and left two weeks later. Not even a minute later, you pressed up against my ward, so you must have seen them. Were you saying goodbye?”

Tim tried not to let the panic show on his face. If he knew that pressing his hand against the boundary would put Conner in danger he never would have done it.

“As I said, I haven’t seen-”

Ra’s slapped him across the face.

The force of the blow sent him to the floor, hitting his head against the door frame on the way down. The strawberries squished underneath him, rolling in different directions.

“Don’t lie to me.” Ra’s advanced again and Tim was forced to back up, scooting back on his hands and knees. “I know you harbored someone here. I can sense it.”

Tim cursed Ra’s magic and he cursed Conner’s latent magic and he cursed his magic and he cursed and cursed.

“It wasn’t someone from your family, I know their auras. Who do you care about enough to lie to me?”

“Rot in hell, Ra’s.”

The thin veneer of civility Ra’s had been wearing dropped. He grabbed one of Tim’s wrists and hauled him up.

“Least you forget, you belong to me! These marks-” he tightened his grip on Tim’s wrist, provoking a wince. “Are proof that you are nothing more than a thrall! Everything here belongs to me, including you.”

He released Tim’s wrist, causing him to fall back to the floor. Tim rubbed at the hateful marks, sore from Ra's grasp.

“You will never own me.” Tim’s voice was quiet but determined. “I will never serve you.”

“Not willingly, perhaps.” And with that Ra’s strode forward, grabbed a handful of Tim’s hair, and proceeded to drag him towards the stairs.

Tim tried to struggle, but when he kicked out liked Bruce had taught him, the runes around his wrists burned, filling him with fire. The runes prevented him from causing Ra’s damage and left him helpless in his grasp.

Ra’s dragged him into his bedroom and shoved him onto the bed. As soon as Ra’s released him, Tim rolled to his feet and tried to run, only to be struck in the back with lightening. He collapsed to the floor, stunned from the blow.

“Must I tie you to the bed?” Ra’s growled, his hand still smoking.

“Fuck you!” Tim gasped, trying to regain his breath.

Ra’s walked over and yanked him over to the bed and bound him hand and foot to the four-poster. Tim kicked out despite the bands and was rewarded with another slap from Ra’s. While Tim was disoriented, Ra’s tied his last hand to the pole before he stopped short.

“Timothy. Did you allow your guest into your bed.” Again, it wasn’t a question. At this close range, Ra’s could certainly sense Conner’s aura, so wildly different from Tim’s, stilling clinging to the bed. Tim could only stare wide-eyed at Ra’s, waiting for him to make the next move. The cold anger on his face did not bode well for Tim.

“Not even a denial? Very well. It doesn’t matter. I know his aura, I can track him. He’ll be dead within a week’s time and I will return with his head as a gift for you. If you tell me where he is, I will promise to make his death quick. If you don’t, I will use every weapon I have on this poor boy you lured into your bed.”

“You won’t find him. He’s safe, far away from even your reaches.” _Please._ Tim prayed. _Please let that be true._

“No where is safe from me. Surely, you of all people know that.” Ra’s brushed a strand of hair from Tim’s face. Tim glared at him, but was powerless to stop him. “You will have to stop struggling one day, Timothy.”

“Not today,” Tim vowed, tilting his chin up in defiance.

“So stubborn. You do realize-” Ra’s suddenly cut himself off. He rose from the bed and stalked over to the window. “It appears we have company. Do excuse me.”

“Ra’s! Don’t you dare leave me like this!” Tim renewed his struggle to free himself.

Ra’s didn’t say anything, mere reached behind Tim’s head to retrieve a thin piece of cloth. He tied it around Tim’s mouth, stifling his curses.

“I am sorry, but I cannot risk you calling for help. I’ll be back after I deal with this minor problem.”

Ra’s departed the room, his emerald-green cape swaying behind him.

Tim prayed it wasn’t Conner coming back for him. _Let it be anything else, let Conner be safe._ Conner would be walking straight into a trap and even his skills as a swordsman would be nothing against the sorcerer. Tim continued to try and escape his bonds, but Ra’s was an expert at tying inescapable knots. Even if it was useless, he had to try.

Perhaps he didn’t need to undo the knots.

Voices could be heard from downstairs, but Tim focused solely on tugging on his bonds. Ra’s was unaware that the bed, despite its sturdy appearance, had a poster that had been weakened when Tim accidentally spilled acid on it.

Tim heard the wood snap to his left and renewed his efforts. His wrist chaffed against the ropes, but Tim didn’t care. His left arm came free with crack and a piece rope still attached to Tim’s wrist smacked him in the face.

With one arm free he was able to maneuver close enough to his bedside table to retrieve the kitchen knife he had stashed when he first arrived at the Tower. He hacked at the rope on his other arm and feet.

He rolled off the bed. He had a knife, but that wouldn’t do shit against Ra’s. He had no idea who might be downstairs, but Ra’s didn’t seem pleased to see them and the enemy of your enemy is your friend. Still, Tim had always found that saying lacking. More often, it was the enemy of your enemy is your reluctant ally who will stab you in the back at their earliest convenience. 

Then he heard someone cry out and he knew he couldn’t wait it out. Knife clutched in his hand, Tim crept downstairs.

______________

“We’re getting close.” Conner swatted at a branch that hit him in the face.

He had been traveling with Tim’s family for the last four days. It had been interesting, to say the least. He had learned a lot about Tim, his brothers were more than willing to talk about him. He learned how Tim hated raspberries but liked raspberry jam. Tim apparently still caught and released spiders. He was Cass’s favorite dance partner. Dick, as the crown prince requested he call him, taught him to fight and Jason refused to play chess with Tim because Tim was a notorious cheater. The siblings were more than willing to tell embarrassing stories about their brother, which Conner appreciated greatly.

It was obvious just how much Tim’s family missed him. Although King Bruce didn’t speak as much as his children, the little comments he did make were a testament to how deeply he loved his son. The closer they got to the prison, the more tense the whole family became.

“You sure?” Jason asked.

“Positive. There are obscuring wards, so you can’t see it, but the Tower is less than a mile away.” Conner pointed through the trees. “We should be careful, we should be coming up on the boundary soon.”

“Be alert, Ra’s might have station guards since Kon left. Cass, you have Barbara’s potion?” Bruce asked.

Before they left, Barbara had brewed a potion that ruined any runes it was poured on. She and Damian had decided to stay behind at the Castle. Although no one said it, Conner knew that Bruce asked them to stay back in case the mission went wrong. Should everything go wrong, Damian would inherit the throne and Barbara would be regent until he was old enough to rule.

Cass shook the potion that Barbara had entrusted her with. Bruce’s eye twitched slightly with the movement.

“I’ll scout ahead,” Dick offered, foraging ahead before anyone could reject his suggestion.

Bruce exhaled heavily, shaking his head. “We should leave anything we don’t want to take into battle here.”

They nodded and went about shedding their bedrolls and other supplies they had brought for the road. No one wanted to be weight down before going to battle.

Dick returned, saw what they where doing and quickly discarded his own supplies.

“I found the border line,” he said, grimacing. “Nasty looking thing. Looks like League work, that’s for sure.”

“Any specifics?” Bruce asked.

“Conner’s right, there are certainly some obscuring runes. I definitely couldn’t find it if I didn’t know what to look for. It’s also possible that there are hidden runes intended to cause harm if the barrier is crossed. I’m not surprised that our soldiers couldn’t find it, the runes were made by someone who knew what they were doing.”

“They’d have to be an expect in order to keep Tim locked up,” Jason agreed.

“Everyone ready?” Bruce asked. The group signaled their agreement. Bruce shifted his grip on his broadsword. “Let’s go.”

Dick led the way, leaving everyone to fall in line behind him. Upon their arrival at the barrier, Cass step forward and carefully smeared the potion onto the ground. The runes that made the barrier glowed upon contact with the potion before melting into the ground. A smell like burning tar filled the air and Conner rubbed at his nose.

Dick went to step over the line, but Bruce caught his arm, preventing him from crossing.

“Let me go first.”

Dick looked at his father closely, then shrugged, gesturing him forward. Conner was certain they were all holding their breath as the King of Gotham crossed the barrier. When nothing happened, the Wayne children rushed over the line to join their father, Kon in tow.

“Is that the Tower?” Bruce asked.

“Yes. Considering the hour, I expect that’s where we’ll find Tim,” Kon confirmed. He could almost see Tim, getting ready for dinner and dancing around the kitchen. He sped up.

He led the Wayne family through the garden, up to the back door that led into the kitchen.

He pushed the door open.

“Somethings wrong,” he whispered. He stepped to the side, allowing the rest to crowd in the kitchen.

Strawberries were strewn across the floor, and Tim’s basket was left carelessly on the floor. Bruce walked forward to look past the doorframe connecting the kitchen to the rest of the house. Both Cass and Jason had drawn their weapons, ready for a fight.

Conner followed Bruce into the main hall. There were no further signs of a struggle, but there was no sign of Tim either.

“Where do you-” he started to ask but was cut off by Bruce.

“Hush.” Bruce tilted his head to the side, listening.

He must have heard something, because he shoved Kon to the side, a fraction of a second before a bolt of lightning crashed into the wall where his head had been moments before.

“Ra’s.” The growl that came from Bruce’s throat was inhuman.

A man, clad in fine clothes and an emerald green cloak, emerged from the stairs leading up to the bedroom. Conner’s heart seized.

“Greetings.” Ra’s acted like he had just met them in the marketplace. Dick and Cass both flanked their father, watching Ra’s like hawks. Jason guarded their back. “How can I be of service?”

“You can return my brother, you sick bastard,” Dick snarled.

“As far as I’m aware, my traitorous grandson is still in Gotham.”

“Enough games. Where is my son?” demanded Bruce.

“Oh, Bruce. You will have to do better than that.”

Ra’s hand darted forward, sending a bolt of magic towards Bruce. Bruce’s sword snapped up, deflecting the bolt. Ra’s withdrew his own sword from behind his cape and began to walk towards the group.

“Spread out, look for Tim,” Bruce ordered. “Cass, Jason, stay with me.”

Cass jumped forward, her twin swords flashing. Jason followed right behind her. Both had to jump back to avoid being hit by a wave of fire Ra’s summoned.

“We need to get him out of here,” said Kon from behind Bruce. “Tim’s bedroom is up those stairs.”

Bruce nodded, not looking back at him. He joined his children in battle, driving Ra’s back from the door.

A bolt of concentrated magic was hurled towards Jason and he didn’t manage to dodge in time. The missile hit him in the arm, causing him to cry out in pain. Bruce, momentarily distracted by his son’s pain, was also hit. Cass pressed forward, undaunted and managed to slash Ra’s in the upper thigh before flipping back before he could retaliate.

Dick stayed back with Conner, waiting for an opening. Conner thought he saw a chance but was thrown back by a blast of magic to the chest. Dick picked him off the ground and pulled him out of danger. Kon waved him off, wheezing slightly.

He was about to dart forward again when he saw a head poke out from the staircase.

_Tim._

Tim made eye contact with Conner and broke into a relieved grin. Dick was so focused on the battle that he didn’t notice until Kon poked him in the ribs. Dick’s face melted when he saw his little brother.

Dick and Conner rushed forward in tandem and both used their bodies as shields to protect Tim as they escorted Tim to the kitchen.

Ra’s noticed them escaping and sent a barrage of magic missiles to stop them. Conner tucked Tim closer to him and picked up the pace.

Ra’s attempted to follow them, but Bruce blocked him.

“You will never look at him again,” Bruce vowed.

“He belongs to me now. I will kill you and your children, and he will watch you die. Your screams will haunt him for the rest of his life.” Ra’s smiled, delighting in the fury in Bruce’s eyes. “I will burn Gotham Castle to the ground, with my disobedient grandson and everyone else who dares defy me locked inside.”

“You are going to rot in prison.” Bruce was never one for talking during battle, to talk was to be distracted, as he reminded Dick constantly. He focused on the fight, parrying every blow. Cass and Jason were right next to him, trading blows with Ra’s as they tried to outlast his magic.

Over in the kitchen, Dick didn’t let go of Tim for several minutes.

“I’m fine, Dick,” said Tim, voice muffled by Dick shirt.

Conner noticed a bruise on Tim’s cheek that disagreed with that statement but didn’t comment. He peeked out from the door frame, but a stray bolt sent him back into the kitchen.

“We can’t leave them,” Dick hadn’t released Tim and was still holding him close.

“We can’t wait for Ra’s magic to run out, that will take forever,” said Tim.

Ra’s clearly had vast reserves of magic and it would be risky to let him tire himself out. Ra’s would definitely injure, likely kill one of them before he was drained of magic.

“Is there anyway to drain him faster?” asked Conner.

Tim’s face lit up and he wiggled lose of Dick. He rushed over to the cabinet labeled POTIONS- DO NOT CONSUME and threw open the door. He pushed brightly colored bottles out of the way before pulling out a several bottles filled with a brilliant blue liquid.

Conner recognized them. An image of Tim standing over his cauldron, ignoring him sprang to mind.

_“The weather is crisp and clear, as you very well know, I saw you taking a walk earlier. This potion is supposed to sap a person’s magic and we’re having soup for dinner.”_

“Oh, Tim. You brilliant bastard," he whispered.

Tim grinned and handed him one of the bottles. “How good is your aim?”

“I have the best aim in Krypton,” Kon boasted.

“Braggart.”

Dick’s eye’s flicked between the two of them. He accepted the potions Tim passed him, but kept his eyes on them.

“Aim for Ra’s, avoid hitting family,” Tim instructed Dick. “It won’t hurt them, but we’ll need to hit Ra’s with as many as possible.”

Dick nodded and tested the weight of the bottle in his hand. He flung the bottle with great force at Ra’s. It smashed against Ra’s head, stunning him. The glass broke on contact, coating Ra’s in the blue liquid.

Ra’s pushed Bruce back and started to stalk towards the trio in the kitchen, who continued to toss potions at him as he approached, moving back slightly.

Jason darted in front and slowed him down. Tim had expected him to move forward and accidentally hit Jason square in the back. Jason didn’t even flinch, sword flashing against Ra’s.

Cass snuck up behind him and slashed one her swords against Ra’s back. Ra’s stepped sideways and Jason’s next lunge almost went between Cass’s ribs. She glared at him.

Dick took the last potion. Ra’s hadn’t used magic for a while, but Dick would rather be safe than sorry. The last potion hit Ra’s on the arm. The moment it landed, Tim gasped out in pain. Both Dick and Kon turned to him, but he shook his head, choosing to focus on the battle in front of them.

The sorcerer’s clothes had been stained blue with the numerous potions that had hit him, but that didn’t make him any less imposing. His skill as a swordsman allowed him to battle any of the Waynes as their equal. One on one, he could have bested them.

But it wasn’t one on one and all of the Waynes were out for blood. Jason and Cass were relentless, moving in perfect sync. Dick withdrew his sword and joined the battle. It was like watching a pack of dogs take down a bear. Without his magic, Ra’s didn’t stand a chance.

Bruce tackled Ra’s while he was focused on the others. Jason kicked the sword out of Ra’s hand. Bruce used his weight to pin Ra’s to the floor while Dick and Cass found rope to bind him.

“You think you can hold me?” Ra’s spat. “I’ll escape and then you will all perish at my hand!”

Ra’s made eye contact with Tim. “And don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, dearest. You’ll be the first.”

Tim stared down at his former captor. “As I said, rot in hell.”

Tim turned on his heel, striding out of Ra’s view, leaving his family to guard him. Conner followed him, but not before he saw a delighted Cass gag Ra’s, cutting off his insults. Kon smiled and she grinned back at him. She fastened the gag tightly, ensuring his silence.

Tim stood in the back garden, hugging himself.

“You okay?” Kon walked up to stand behind Tim.

Tim nodded and held out his arms. Conner gratefully wrapped him in a hug, reassuring himself that Tim was safe as much as he was giving comfort to Tim.

“I’m fine.” Tim kept his eyes closed, breathing slowly.

Conner rubbed Tim’s back in gentle circles. “Your family is going to be pleased to have you home. It’s all they could talk about the whole way here.”

Tim hummed happily. “I can’t wait to home. I’ve missed them so much.”

“I’m glad your safe now.” Conner traced the bruise on Tim’s face. “Although, I recall you made a promise not to get hurt while I was gone.”

Tim huffed in irritation. “I hardly consider this to be my fault, Ra’s was-”

“Tim.”

Bruce and the rest of the Wayne family stood in doorframe.

“Dad,” Tim choked. He ran into his father’s arm. Bruce wrapped him up in a hug, clutching him tight. His siblings joined in, encasing Tim in a group hug. When they finally released him, more than one of them had tears in their eyes.

Tim swiped at his eyes, stepping back. “Can we go home?”

Bruce nodded. “We’ll leave at once.”

“I need to grab somethings.” He turned back towards Kon. “Can you help me?”

Kon followed Tim back into the Tower. They stepped over the strawberries in the kitchen and headed for the bedroom.

Conner was surprised to find that the bed was in ruins, the posters snapped in half. Tim didn’t explain and Conner didn’t ask.

“Thank you for coming back for me.” If Conner wasn’t paying attention, he wouldn’t have heard it. Tim didn’t turn around, continuing to pack his bags.

“I promised. I will always come back for you.” Conner walked over to Tim and went to touch him but hesitated. “I care about you a lot.”

Tim turned around to face Kon, clutching a bag in his hands. “Conner, I-”

“You don’t have to answer, I just- When I left, I was so scared I might never see you again and every night I’ve cursed myself for my cowardice. I couldn’t stand to be apart from you, you don’t have to thank me for returning.”

“I couldn’t sleep while you were gone. I kept turning to talk to you and you weren’t there. It was like getting hit every time I remembered you were gone. I know you must leave me again, your king will need you eventually, but I…” Tim hesitated. “I have a great affection for you. I hope you don’t have to leave, I don’t think I could stand seeing you leave so soon.”

Kon heart leaped at Tim's confession. He leaned closer to Tim, staring into his eyes. “Stop me if you wish.”

Tim tilted his head, confused. Conner raised his hands to Tim’s face, cradling him gently. Tim leaned into his touch and Conner closed the gap between them, kissing him. Tim closed his eyes and sank into the kiss, letting his bag drop so that he could pull Conner closer.

Tim’s bag fell to the floor, contents spilling out. They ignored it, wrapped up in the moment. Conner wrapped his arms around Tim’s waist, tugging him closer so they could deepen the kiss. Tim's hands were in his hair, pulling him tight against his body. 

“Hey, Bruce wants to know if- What the fuck?”

Conner and Tim split apart, breathing hard. They looked over to the voice.

Jason stood in the doorway, looking appalled. “Are you kidding me?”

“Hi, Jason.” Tim sounded remarkably calm, considering he was rapidly turning pink. “Did you need something?”

Jason shook his head, trying to clear the image from his head. “Bruce wants to know if you’re done yet. I mean, clearly you aren’t, but-”

"We’ll be down in five minutes, get out,” growled Tim.

Jason backed up, laughing. “Dick’s going to be pissed. He owes me twenty gold coins.”

Tim scooped up a pillow off the floor and hurled it at his brother’s head. Jason retreated, cackling.

Conner caught Tim’s wrist. He noticed something when Tim was throwing the pillow.

“Your marks are gone.”

“What?” Tim glanced down. “Oh, yes. They disappeared when Ra’s lost the rest of his magic.” He rotated his wrists, clear of all marks. “It was like something snapped in me and then they were just gone.”

Conner pressed a kiss to the inside of Tim’s wrist, causing Tim to turn even redder.

“Come on, let’s finish packing. I hate to think what Jason’s telling them.”

“Your family’s going to kill me, aren’t they?” Conner asked.

Tim laughed, but didn’t answer. They worked together, stuffing the few clothes and books that Tim wanted to bring home and joined the others downstairs.

Cass giggled when she saw them but otherwise no one commented. Jason jingled his coins smugly, silently gloating.

“Are you ready?” asked Bruce.

“Yes.” Tim linked his fingers through Conner’s. “Let’s go home.”

____________

In the two days since the group arrived home, Conner had rarely seen Tim except for the formal dinners welcoming them home.

Tim slept the first day away, awaking just in time to see Conner shortly before dinner. The next day Tim’s friends from all over Gotham had needed to see him, to reassure themselves that he was safe. A girl named Stephanie tackled Tim in a hug, which knocked him to the floor, making Cass double over in laughter until she joined them on the floor.

At some point, Conner had discovered the gardens.

They were a massive affair, with a hedge maze that was famous for only being navigable by the princes and princesses of Gotham. Conner particularly enjoyed the giant lake, surrounded by a grove of trees, perfect for picnics.

He was resting on a bench in the gardens, tired from his wandering, when he looked up to find Tim, silhouetted against the sun.

Tim looked so natural in his crown and robes, but Conner could still remember him crouching over a cauldron, hair escaping his ponytail and sticking to his forehead, cackling over some dumb joke Conner made.

This Tim was so far removed from the Tim in the Tower that for a moment Conner wondered if he knew him at all.

Then he opened his mouth.

“So, were you ever going to tell me you are a prince, or was a supposed to figure that out myself?” Tim asked, eyes glinting.

“Oh, hush. You’re a hypocrite, you know. You never told me that you were King Bruce’s son.”

Tim collapsed down on the bench next to Kon. “I suppose I didn’t want to be a stereotype. After all, how many fairy tales are there about princes and princesses getting themselves locked in towers until a brave, handsome knight rescues them.”

“You think I’m handsome?”

Tim knocked his shoulders against Conner’s. “Don’t go fishing for compliments.”

“I wouldn’t have to fish if you weren’t so stingy with compliments to begin with. Is it really so hard to find something good about me?”

Tim looked him up and down, inspecting him. He shrugged, turning away. “You have all your teeth.”

“That’s the best you can do?” Kon tried to shove Tim off the bench. Tim grabbed onto Conner’s shirt to prevent himself from falling, but it only caused both of them to fall, landing in a tangled heap.

Kon pushed himself off of Tim and rolled over so he was laying in the dirt next to Tim. He glanced over at Tim, who robes were now rumbled and covered with dirt. “Aren’t you supposed to be a good prince?”

“I could ask you the same question,” snarked Tim. He sat up and tried to fix his crown, which had fallen askew. A strand of his hair had gotten tangled in a jewel at the base and Tim tried to tug it loose.

“Here, let me.” Conner sat up and gently moved the crown so that he could loosen the strand. When it was free, he tucked it behind Tim’s ear. 

Tim stared at him, face soft. “I’m not entirely sure what happens now.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, between you and me. You’ll have to return to Krypton eventually and I doubt Bruce will let me out of arms reach any time soon.”

“We’ll figure it out. You know the good part of those fairy tales? The ones with handsome princes and brave knights? They’re the ones who get happily ever afters.”

Tim laughed and pushed him away. “This isn’t a fairy tale.”

“You’re quite right. If this was a fairy tale, the brave knight would be rewarded with a kiss.”

“Hmm. Pity we have a distinct shortage of brave knights around here.”

Kon made a offend noise. Unfortunately, his indignity only made Tim laugh.

Tim’s face turned contemplative. He leaned close to Conner and kissed his cheek. His lips moved to brush against Kon’s ear.

“Well, my brave knight, I suppose I should reward you with a kiss.” Then Tim drew back, with a wicked smile. “If you can catch me.”

Tim darted to his feet and took off running, heading deeper into the garden.

Kon stared after him for a moment until his brain caught up with him and he was on his feet in an instant.

He chased Tim into the garden, hearing his laughter ahead of him. He knew Tim could lose him easily in the gardens, but he always seemed just a hairsbreadth away.

Finally, either by a stroke of luck or entirely according to Tim’s plan, he managed to catch Tim’s around the waist.

Tim swung around to face him. His smug face made Conner laugh. He was obviously pleased to be caught, despite the pursuit.

“My brave knight.”

“My gallant prince.” Conner kept one hand around Tim’s waist, anchoring him in place. “I’ll be taking that kiss now, if you don’t mind.”

Tim grabbed his face in both hands and pulled him close, kissing him.

When they parted, Tim laced his hand through Kon’s free hand.

“Promise that you’ll stay with me?” Tim asked, resting his forehead against Conner’s.

“Always.” Kon kissed him again. “You have my word.”

_End._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I have the next couple days written, but I'm still trying to get the last three written, we'll see if I make it in time. I wish everyone else a great week and can't wait to see what other have written!
> 
> Surprise everyone, I'm alive! If you are waiting on my other works, Growing Up is a Trap or The Road to I Do, I have not abandoned them! I just had to focus on school. I did pass all my classes with at least an A and I'm working hard in my summer class, so I'm not ignoring them!
> 
> Anyway, please leave a kudos or a comment if you liked it and I'll see you tomorrow!


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